


Too Little, Too Late

by Huggle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9270695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: The last person Castiel expected to see standing over him was his Father.





	

Cas groaned as he pushed himself onto his knees. The ground bit into his hands, gravel grinding into the wounds. It hurt when it shouldn’t have. It all hurt and for one awful moment he was afraid it had happened to him again.

That his Grace was gone. That he was human.

But then he sensed the presence standing by him, just out of sight but blinding and powerful all the same. So intense it almost drove him prostrate again.

“Of course you’re not human. You’re a little roughed up, not fallen.”

There was a time when Cas would have stayed on his knees, not dared to look up or even speak.

But that was a long time ago, and so he settled back on his heels and turned a glare on his Father.

“What do you want?”

Chuck – he could not think of him by any other name now – frowned down at him as if the harsh response was a puzzlement, unexpected.

“The Winchesters can make a lot of noise when they’re distressed,” he said. “I came to see what all the fuss was about and I guess it was a good thing I did.”

Distressed? Cas looked around him urgently, reaching out with his Grace at the same time. That sent a spike of pain through him and he started to sway as darkness tinged his vision.

“Okay, don’t…. Castiel, they’re fine, I promise you.” Chuck’s hands settled on his shoulders, steadying him. Cas made a futile attempt at shrugging them off, but he was hurt and weak and not too proud to acknowledge that only his Father’s strength was preventing him from keeling over.

“I’d rather see for myself.”

“Well… You can’t.”

Cas snarled at him and this time was angry enough to pull free. He got back onto his knees, then carefully managed to get to his feet. For a few moments, he was dizzy enough that he wasn’t sure he could stay there. But then it passed and he stared around him.

His memory was unclear. He knew he had been going somewhere with Dean and Sam, to help them with….something. And he remembered they were afraid suddenly, and he was too, but then…nothing.

“Where are they?”

Chuck motioned around him. They were standing in the centre of a wide field of debris, as if something had exploded around them and destroyed everything for several metres. “Not here, obviously. Like I said, they’re fine. Thanks to you.”

Slowly, it came back to him. The trap, the flare of power moving to envelop them. He remembered feeling the energy building. Unable to fly, all he could do was push the brothers as hard as he dared.

Hard enough to carry them beyond the range of the trap. And since they weren’t here now, either his Father was lying or he’d sent them somewhere safe.

As if Chuck had sensed his thoughts, he waved vaguely towards the horizon. “They’re back at the motel – I healed them. You shoved them a little hard.”

Castiel nodded, relieved at least that they were safe. “Thank you.” He looked around, saw the Impala still parked a hundred yards or so distant, and started towards it.

“Wait, hold on,” Chuck said. “Castiel, where are you going?”

“To the Winchesters,” he said. He kept walking even though each step was a drain. Why was he so weak?

“I’ll take you.” Chuck trailed behind him, and Castiel could feel his Father reaching out, as if he expected him to stumble or fall.

No doubt he did.

“No,” he said. “I’ll drive to them.”

“And now you’re just being stubborn.”

“Am I?” Castiel rounded on him. “I can manage well enough without your help.”

He turned away again and focused on reaching the car. But the nearer he got, the harder it seemed. Whatever trap they had triggered, and he was still fuzzy on why they had been here, what they had been hunting, it was still affecting him or at least the damage it had caused was.

By the time he reached the car, he was panting and nauseous, and he slumped against it to keep upright.

“This is you managing,” Chuck said.

Castiel grabbed the door handle, anger at the jibe driving him on. But he couldn’t open it. He tugged harder, then realised why.

“Stop it,” he said.

Chuck took him by the shoulders and turned him so he was leaning back against the car.

“You stop it,” he said. “All I want is you to be reasonable, son.”

Be reasonable. He remembered being sunk inside Lucifer’s Grace, but still aware of most of what was going on around him. Hearing those words being directed at his older brother. He and Lucifer had little in common, but when his brother had felt that their Father said that he really meant ‘come around to what I say’ Castiel had agreed.

He felt no different about it now.

“Perhaps I got used to ‘managing’ without you,” he said.

The door opened of its own accord, and Castiel sunk inside gratefully. Dean’s keys were still in the ignition. The engine turned over immediately, and Castiel fastened his seat belt.

Chuck ducked down to peer at him through the window. “I know you’re angry at me, Castiel. But if you’ll just give me a chance to explain.”

Castiel didn’t even look at him as he released the parking brake. “I was angry at you, once,” he said. “But no longer. Just like I’m no longer your son.”

When he looked back in the rearview mirror, Chuck was gone.


End file.
